


anyone but you

by babylupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: As heck, I Just Needed To Write This, M/M, Oh My God, and they were roommates!, anyway, are BACK, be nice, but it's not the shortest thing i've ever written, hshshd, i'm gonna go to sleep, it's short, just fucking nonsense, leave kudos, my drarry feels, no nothing, no plan, so it is a MESS, that i had the sudden urge to write, they were roommates, this was a very late night drabble, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylupin/pseuds/babylupin
Summary: okay so i have mock exams next month so i never really have time to write anything massive but i do get bursts of creativity every now and again (although obviously it's not for the sketchbook i need to be adding to - my brain likes to be as difficult as possible!) so that's why these messy little shits exist





	anyone but you

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i have mock exams next month so i never really have time to write anything massive but i do get bursts of creativity every now and again (although obviously it's not for the sketchbook i need to be adding to - my brain likes to be as difficult as possible!) so that's why these messy little shits exist

As much as Draco had hated Professor McGonagall for making him and Potter roommates, he couldn’t help but grow to care for the specky git in the months that had passed. It was late; the eighth-years had come back from dinner maybe four hours ago. And yet, Potter still hadn’t come barging into their room like he did every other night.

Draco was sat upright at the end of his bed, his elbows propped up on his knees and his palms pressed together, coming to rest on his chapped lips. He heard someone run past in the corridor outside and his eyes flew open. Upon realising that Potter was still unaccounted for, he sighed and got to his feet, pacing back and forth in the pitiful gap between his and Potter’s beds.

He remembered how furious he had been when they had ended up as roommates at the start of the year. He’d come back to Hogwarts after a summer spent shut up inside the manor, save for the day of his trial. Even though he had been pardoned and cleared of all charges, people still threw things at his head as he and his mother had walked from the courtroom. After that, he hadn’t left his bedroom, let alone the manor. He had barely eaten, but his mother made a chore of coming into his room and sitting with him once a day while he ate something she had prepared (the servants had been sacked after Lucius had been sentenced to Azkaban), just to make sure he wasn’t starving himself to death. He was grateful for her company and care.

Then the letter came stating that those in Draco’s year who wished to return to Hogwarts and complete their seventh year were allowed to do so. Draco had wanted at once to finish his studies; he knew that becoming a Healer or whatever career would be a lot harder with no NEWT scores. But then Draco had remembered how much people  _ hated _ him, and he’d had doubts about going back. If it weren’t for his mother’s words, he might still be rotting away in his bedroom. She had told him to ignore what everyone said, because the Wizengamot had declared him innocent and he was a free man. He had been cleared. It would take time, but everyone would have to get used to it, and over time, they would stop harassing him. 

“I’ve converted this section of the East Wing into eighth-year dormitories, but to promote house unity and to fit the smaller bedrooms, you will be split into pairs.” McGonagall had said to the eighth-years after the start-of-term feast. Draco remembered seeing Potter and Weasley chatting off to the side as their Headmistress had said this, most definitely assuming they would be paired up together. The shock had clearly hit them like a Stunning Spell to the chest.

“Mr Weasley and Mr Macmillan, you two make our first pairing. Off you go to your new room, then, boys.”

There were only four boys left before McGonagall read Draco’s name off from the roll of parchment: himself, Potter, Blaise and some Ravenclaw toff whose name he didn’t know.

“Mr Potter, your partner is Mr Malfoy,” Draco remembered the smirk on her face as she’d said it. It was the tiniest thing, but it was there. Almost as though she was proud of herself. He, however, had been absolutely livid. As if coming back to Hogwarts hadn’t already been hard enough, now he was being forced to  _ live _ with Harry fucking Potter. The sole person who hated him more than anyone else in the world.

“I’ve set up an Anathema that forbids you from harming your roommate,” McGonagall had said. “Anyone who breaks it will be expelled, NEWTs completed or not.”

Draco did his best to ignore Potter and set up his side of the room, but Potter had stood there like a fucking idiot until Draco could pretend he wasn’t there any longer. He turned around very slowly and sneered at him, “I don’t recall using a body-binding curse on you, Potter.”

Potter had rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Malfoy. I-”

But Draco had turned round again and was now rooting through his trunk for his pyjamas.

“Listen, Malfoy, I know - I know we haven’t exactly been on the best terms before-”

“What are you on about, Potter, we’ve been best friends for the last seven years!” Draco had replied sarcastically, still rifling through his trunk.

“Could you just  _ shut up _ , I’m trying to say something.”

“By all means, say it.”

Potter had sighed rather pointedly. Draco pulled his neatly folded pyjamas from his trunk and set them on the end of his bed. 

“Anyway, we’ve been really hostile towards each other for the entire time we’ve known each other, and I think it’s time we move past that.”

Draco turned again, narrowing his steel grey eyes at the other boy. “Are you suggesting we form some sort of truce?”

Potter nodded, slowly. “Yes. A truce.”

“Alright. But I’ll have to hear your terms first.”

“My - my terms?”

“Of the truce. What we can do, what we can’t. You know.”

“R-right…” Potter frowned. “So, we can’t hit or physically harm each other. Or use spells against each other.”

Draco had pouted falsely. “There goes my plan for the year. Look, Potter, you’re not getting this.” He paused, thinking, and went on, “Can we talk to each other?”

“Yes.”

“Can we ignore each other?”

“Y-yes…?”

“Why do you hesitate?”

“Why do you want to ignore me?”

“I - it’s for the sake of the truce, just shut up.”

“Okay. Can we swear at each other?”

“Merlin, yes,” Draco had sighed, exasperated. “Fuck knows I’ll have to release the tension  _ somehow _ .”

They’d agreed on these terms, and then barely spoken to each other for the course of the next three months. Draco didn’t mind much. It isn’t like he was missing anything important.

However, just because they rarely exchanged more than a few words did not mean they had little to do with one another’s lives. Almost every night, without fail, Draco would be woken up by Potter suddenly screaming or calling out. Draco understood: he had PTSD too. He had nightmares about the war too. He dreamt that Voldemort was torturing his entire family and refused to stop until Draco killed someone. But Draco  _ couldn’t do it _ , so he was tortured too. He was put through hours of bone-rattling, blood-boiling, agonising pain and then forced to watch his parents being murdered by that foul snake that Voldemort adored so much. The dreams were so vivid, Draco would wake up screaming, or crying, or both. And Harry would comfort him. And he would comfort Harry. And the next morning, neither of them would acknowledge that anything had happened.

Because of this, Draco had developed some sort of  _ feeling _ for the godforsaken  _ Boy Who Lived _ . He didn’t know what the feeling meant. He didn’t know what it was. He just knew it made him worry like mad when Harry didn’t come back to his room after dinner.

The door suddenly flew open, and Draco jumped back in shock.

“Sorry,” Harry said absently.

“Where’ve you been?” Draco asked before he could stop himself. Harry frowned at him.

“Why do you care?” he grinned. “Miss me?”

“Fuck off,” Draco snarled, bowing his head as he felt colour rush into his cheeks. Harry laughed and proceeded with his nightly routine of aimlessly moving things around and then eventually changing and getting into bed (he slept in his pants and a t-shirt - Draco was unsure how he felt about it).  
Draco got into his own bed, wearing _proper_ pyjamas, soon after and waved his wand, plunging the room into darkness.

“Draco?” Harry whispered after a few minutes. He’d called him Draco for the first time a few weeks ago, and it seemed to have stuck. For Draco, Harry was Harry in his head, but out loud he was still Potter.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something? It’s a bit weird…”

“No. Go to sleep.”

“Why do you help me when I get those dreams?”

“Because you help me when  _ I _ get them.”

“Yeah, because you’re generally shouting and I want the noise to stop. But also because I know what it’s like, and I’d want someone to be there for me. And you are.”

“I am what?”

“There for me.”

“Oh…” Draco was blushing so hard he wondered if Harry would be able to see it even in the darkness. Even though he was blind as a bat.

“Can I ask you something else?” Harry asked again, after a few minutes of silence.

“No, Potter, go to sleep.”

“Have you ever- has anyone ever- have you-”

“You’re a fucking tragedy, Potter.” Draco chuckled.

“Fuck you,” Harry sighed again. He sighed a lot.

“Spit it out. I’m listening,” said Draco. Softer this time.

“I just wondered if you’d ever kissed anyone…”

“Me? No.” Draco replied immediately. He wasn’t embarrassed by the fact. Not even remotely. “There’s never really been anyone I’ve  _ wanted _ to kiss,” he went on. “I just wasn’t bothered by it. I’ve heard people say they get jealous when they see other people snogging but I just - I guess I’ve never had that before.”

He was lying through his teeth and he knew it.

“Are you aromantic? Or asexual?” Harry asked.

Draco laughed into the darkness. “No, I’m not. I’ve just never met anyone who I’ve felt that way about.”

Lying again.

He heard Harry moving around on the other side of the room and tried to ignore it. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but then he felt the end of his bed sink under Harry’s weight. Draco sat up in his bed and folded his arms.

“What are you doing, Potter?”

“Can I ask you something else?”

Draco sighed, irritated. It was so quiet, he could almost  _ hear _ his heartbeat. He could almost hear Harry’s too. He became increasingly aware of how close together they were sitting. It was difficult to ignore, and Draco couldn’t seem to shake the warmth from his cheeks.

“If you must,” he replied, his throat dry.

Harry moved closer to him. Draco could only just see him through the darkness: he was wearing his glasses and was looking at Draco in a way he never had before. It made Draco’s heart skip a beat.

“Can  _ I _ kiss you?” Harry whispered. So quietly, Draco could barely hear it.

“Merlin,  _ yes _ ,” Draco gasped, grabbing a fistful of Harry’s top and pulling him towards him. He clumsily pushed their lips together. It was brief, but it was the best thing that had ever happened to Draco. Harry’s lips were warm and soft, and he still tasted like the treacle tart that had been served at dinner nearly five hours ago.

Draco lifted his hand and ran his fingers through Harry’s unruly black hair. It was something he’d subconsciously wanted to do for as long as he could remember. He kissed Harry again - messily - but it made Harry smile all the same. Draco’s heart lurched at the sight of that smile. It was one of the only things that made Draco smile, too.

“I lied,” Draco whispered.

“When?”

“When I said I’d never wanted to kiss anyone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone but  _ you _ .”

Harry grinned at him and kissed him again. This year looked like it was going to be a lot better than Draco had anticipated.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read the tags you don't need to read this bUT i had a sudden urge to write drarry and this is the product of that so i'm sorry if it is messy as fuck and doesn't make sense but please be nice and leave kudos uwu


End file.
